


How Soon is Now?

by mrs_leary (julie)



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Emo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-16
Updated: 2009-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-28 06:36:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/304814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/mrs_leary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The party is like a scene in a bad John Hughes movie, with the jocks in one group and the emo punks in another. Bradley is all too aware that the hardcore emo Colin Morgan is crushing on him, and his jock friends dare him to call Morgan’s bluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Soon is Now?

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Как насчет сейчас?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5991160) by [Ardel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ardel/pseuds/Ardel)



> This fic features an alternate Colin – a Colin with a somewhat different history, who dresses like Jethro in the _Dr Who_ episode _Midnight_ – and who first meets Bradley while attending drama school.
> 
> Written for my dear friend, the awesome **cotharay** , who asked for emo!Colin. (Hope I got him something like right for you, hon. ♥♥♥)
> 
> With thanks to **asifidletyou** , for helping with the research by gifting me a Fall Out Boy CD for my birthday. (Thank you, my sweet!) Fall Out Boy have some awesome song titles, so in honour of the CD I was rather tempted to title the fic thus: _My lawyer made me change the name of this fic so I wouldn’t get sued_. But I ended up going with something a little more classic…

♦  


## Colin

  


> He’d been running for five years. He’d been running, shifting from place to place, restless, occasionally flying out of control then alighting somewhere new quite randomly, before moving on again sooner rather than later. Life as a state of constant change. It had been easier that way. But finally, at the age of twenty–one, he’d found something he wanted to do. Someplace he wanted to be. Acting. The Drama Centre in London. He’d even brought a friend with him from the previous place to the new one. Joe. He’d started to feel something he hadn’t really felt even in childhood. He’d started to feel settled. Secure. He’d started to feel he had a purpose. Which was when, of course, the most unsettling thing of all happened, and his new life began tearing apart almost before it had even begun. When he first saw Bradley James.

♦  


## Bradley

  
That emo punk Morgan was watching him again, an element of quiet stillness in the midst of the chaotic party. Bradley frowned a little in his direction, and turned away, but he didn’t mind too much. Morgan’s attention could be mildly irritating at worst – and, at best… well, no drama student ever really minded having an audience. Bradley took a long pull on his lager, and felt the beer buzz building perfectly.

‘That Colin Morgan guy,’ said one of Bradley’s friends. Kevin. The buzz sank back down again. ‘He’s totally crushing on you.’

‘He’s all right,’ said Bradley, unexpectedly. A number of surprised faces turned to him. ‘I mean… he never does anything about it. Just leave him be.’

Speculative glances were exchanged. Santiago was the one who dared to comment. ‘Getting a bit protective, aren’t you?’

Bradley shrugged. ‘He never bothers me. And you can’t blame the poor guy, after all.’ Bradley spread his arms wide and put on a display of face, shoulders, hips. Ran a hand back through his hair, which was just starting to grow out nicely and seemed to be darkening all by itself from a lacklustre blond to a deep gold. ‘With these leading man looks, this perfect physique, how could he resist?’

Good–natured guffaws greeted this, and the nudging of elbows. Bradley dared a glance back at the guy in question, and found that enigmatic blue gaze still resting upon him. Whenever they happened to be in the same place at the same time, Colin Morgan would watch Bradley James. Just watch him gently. He’d never once approached Bradley, or spoken to him unless he had to in a class, he never seemed to go out of his way to be where Bradley was, he’d never once followed him or anything creepy like that. When the opportunity was there, he just watched. That was all. At first Bradley had felt bewildered. Then kind of weirded out. Then flattered. By now it mostly just felt kind of comfortable.

‘Punks,’ muttered Kevin, low and a tiny bit malicious – and Bradley saw Morgan’s gaze flicker past him and over his friends, before returning to him with a hint of the quizzical about one eyebrow.

There was a general shift in mood, in stance, and for a moment it was like a bad John Hughes movie – or a gay one, perhaps – with Bradley’s friends as the jocks, all footy playing or at least gym frequenting – and Morgan’s mates all emo punks in their bold colours and long fringes, skinny jeans and Converse sneakers. The two groups seemed to square off, glaring at each other.

Not that Morgan was part of that. He’d already settled back to watching Bradley, gently watching amidst the mayhem, not bristling or defiant like his friends. He was the only one of the punks to be dressed all in black, that long lean body in tight black jeans, snug black t–shirt bearing the word _MIDNIGHT_ in a dark grey, black leather wristbands, black nail polish. That pale skin… Those enigmatic blue eyes…

Bradley caught his breath.

‘Ain’t that right, Bradley?’ Kevin asked, nudging him.

‘What?’ Bradley had to ask. He gestured vaguely up as if the loud music was to blame for him not hearing. ‘What d’you say?’

‘I _said_ … a kid like that, he probably wouldn’t even know what to do if _did_ get hold of you.’

A frisson ran through Bradley – a shudder – as he thought, _Oh, he’d know what to do all right._ Not that he said anything of the sort out loud.

‘He’s probably only picked you cos he knows he hasn’t a chance.’

‘Never have to put it to the test,’ someone else agreed.

‘Probably die a virgin, that one,’ Rick commented. ‘Did you know that ten percent of people die virgins?’

‘Shut up, Rick,’ they all chorused. ‘Just cos _you’re_ gonna…’

 _You’ve got him so wrong,_ Bradley thought. Meaning Morgan, of course, and not Rick. He noted that Santiago had remained silent. Santiago knew better, too.

‘He’d run a mile,’ was the conclusion.

‘What you should do, Bradley,’ said Kevin, ‘is go over there and give him what he wants. What he _thinks_ he wants. Kiss him –’

 _Oh._

‘– and see what he does.’

‘He’d run a mile!’ Rick snickered.

‘Call his bluff. He won’t know _what_ the hell to do.’

Bradley was watching Morgan throughout all this, considering him. They were watching each other, while the jocks and the punks around them squared their shoulders at each other. Bradley looked at those blue eyes of Morgan’s, those astonishing cheekbones, those shapely lips. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘But what’s in it for me?’

‘Bradley,’ Santiago said in a low warning. ‘You said to leave him be.’

‘Gets him off your back, at least,’ said Rick.

Kevin was staring at him in surprise. ‘Like you _need_ an incentive!’

Ah. So it had become obvious that Bradley wasn’t exactly _massively_ reluctant to take the dare. He flushed a bit, glanced around at his friends. ‘One kiss,’ he clarified. ‘Just to see what he’ll do.’

‘Yeah,’ they all agreed, even though most of them had finally twigged that the situation wasn’t quite as straightforward as they’d assumed.

‘And you all buy me beer for the next week.’

‘All right.’ A bit grudging now, but no one backed down. They’d thought this would be good sport.

Bradley downed the rest of his beer. The buzz came back, tingling through his veins. ‘All right,’ he agreed. Amidst slow claps and whistles and catcalls, he handed the empty bottle to Santiago – who again quietly protested, ‘Bradley’ – and he stared intently at Morgan. Started walking over there, with his friends whooping. Walking directly towards Morgan.

A flash of fear on Morgan’s face, which if possible grew even paler, but then he quickly schooled it. Blank now, with an underlying hint of wariness. But he stood his ground. He obviously knew a challenge was coming. He obviously wasn’t going to pretend that he didn’t know that Bradley knew about the crush. He stood his ground.

Bradley was vaguely aware of the other punks standing there gaping, too slow to even react. One guy finally stepped forward to show some solidarity. Joe Dempsie, Bradley thought, though he wasn’t entirely sure he’d got the right name. But even he didn’t try to stop Bradley –

– who simply walked right up to Colin Morgan, cupped that long strange face in both hands, and leaned in and pressed his mouth against the other man’s…

They held it for a heartbeat. An element of peace in the midst of chaos.

And then Morgan’s mouth was moving under his, and Morgan’s hands were slipping around his waist – Bradley’s skin tingling in response, the sensation swiftly spreading down to his cock, up to his heart – that cool pale face in his hands and that long body so close to his he could feel the heat – and whatever else Morgan did or didn’t know how to do, he certainly knew how to kiss – it was just the most awesome full–blooded kiss Bradley had ever had – some instinct in him responding to something that couldn’t even be explained.

They kissed. They _kissed_. There in the middle of a party for all their fellow students to see. On a dare – for Bradley, it was a dare. For Morgan, it was – Bradley didn’t know what it was for Morgan. All Bradley knew was that it was the most intense fucking kiss of his _entire fucking life_.

Eventually Morgan pulled away a little, Morgan ended it – not letting go of Bradley, but breaking the kiss – and he considered Bradley for a long moment, no doubt reading perfectly well what an effect he’d had. That familiar enigmatic blue gaze, not quite so gentle now.

Morgan leaned in close to press his mouth against Bradley’s once more. He stepped away. Gave Bradley a long regretful look, almost a farewell. And then he turned away, and left. He just walked out. Leaving Bradley there stranded amongst the emo punks.

Bradley looked around after a moment – After that long lean back had disappeared in the direction of the door, Bradley looked around. The punks were all kind of shocked. Except for Joe, if that was his name, who seemed rather apprehensive. ‘Ah… You shouldn’t have done that, man.’

 _Why not?_ He didn’t ask. He glanced back at his friends, who also looked shocked. Except for Santiago, who echoed Joe’s apprehensiveness.

Well. Bradley thought about options, tried to run them through his head. But he really only had one. He sighed. Then he shrugged at his friends, offered an apologetic gesture to an increasingly dismayed Santiago. And he followed Colin Morgan to the door.

♦

As he left the terrace house, Bradley got a glimpse of that black–clad figure turning a corner further down the road, and from there it was easy. Moments later he was landing beside Morgan on a bench in the winter–stripped park two blocks from the Drama Centre. Morgan looked up, startled from his introspective huddle and just _raw_ with grief.

‘Hey,’ said Bradley softly.

Morgan took a moment to collect himself, and then turned a more guarded resentment towards him. ‘You shouldn’t have done that.’

‘Sorry,’ Bradley said, though he wasn’t really. Not for his own sake.

‘I liked things the way they were. I was almost _happy_. First time in a long time. Now everything’s going to change.’

‘Well,’ he responded reasonably, ‘things don’t _have_ to change.’

‘They already have. And you did it for a dare, didn’t you? What are you gonna get? Cash? An essay written for you? Free beer for the rest of the year? What?’

‘Um. Beer for the rest of the week, actually,’ he admitted shamefacedly.

Morgan shot him a scathing look, and retreated back into sadness, augmented by hurt.

‘ _Look._ Look. I wanted to, all right? So it kind of didn’t take much to bribe me. I would have done it without that. Just on a challenge. But I had to look like I was a bit reluctant, didn’t I?’

Which was all meant to be a good thing, a compliment, but Morgan was looking at him all reproachful and saying, ‘You don’t know what you’ve done.’

And he repeated lamely, stubbornly, ‘But I _wanted_ to.’

And then Morgan had surged forward into his startled arms, and they were kissing again, _kissing_ , with a fine bold passion that knew no doubts or regrets at all.

♦

It was cold. The night was far too cold for them to do much other than sit perched there on the bench, clutching each other as close as they could, and kissing, kissing. It was amazing. The most awesome thing. They both wanted more.

‘Your place or mine?’ Morgan said, panting breath frosting in the air as Bradley mouthed his way down that fine pale column of throat.

‘What?’ Bradley asked, though he knew. It was just –

‘Make it worth my while.’

‘What?’ he asked, this time meaning it.

‘I don’t care. I’ll let the ground freeze my knees to go down on you, I’ll warm your hand against my stomach so you can toss me – but actually I wanna do this for real.’

Bradley had lifted his head by the end of this and was staring at the man. Thick black hair, strange blue eyes, fine long face. Emo, unknowable, beautiful.

‘I wanna get naked. I wanna be in a bed.’ And, enunciating very clearly, ‘I want to fuck.’

‘Uh,’ Bradley grunted in assent, mind scrambling over _bed_ and _naked_ , and skittering away from questions about who’d be fucking whom.

‘So…’ A wickedly amused little smile kicking up one side of that mouth, that surprisingly delicious mouth. ‘Yours or mine?’

‘I’m in residences,’ Bradley blurted. ‘Marlowe Hall.’

The mouth curved into a more genuine smile. ‘That’s nearer than mine. I’m in a flat on Osbourne Road.’

‘All right,’ Bradley said, scrambling now over what kind of mess his room was in, how long since he’d changed the sheets – not that Morgan was a _girl_ , was he – then bothering instead over what embarrassments might be scattered about, what windows into Bradley’s soul he was risking, what Morgan would make of the posters on his walls.

A full–on grin now, and Morgan really was beautiful like this, quite beautiful. ‘I don’t care if you’ve had the same sheets on your bed all year, as long as you have your own room and the walls aren’t as thin as mine.’

‘Yes. My own room. The walls are pretty solid. And I think it was last week I changed them. Maybe the week before.’

That mouth pressed against his for a brief hard moment, and then Morgan said fiercely, ‘ _I don’t care._ ’ And the next thing Bradley knew they were walking shoulder to shoulder towards the hall.

♦

‘Here,’ said Bradley, indicating his door while fumbling in his jeans pocket for the keys.

‘I’m gonna…’ Morgan tilted his head down the corridor to where a sign announced the bathrooms. He was smiling in amusement again as if picturing Bradley running around in a frenzy cleaning up.

‘All right. Uh, room twenty–three,’ Bradley added just in case, not opening the door yet.

‘Twenty–three,’ Morgan repeated very soberly. Then with a twinkle from those knowing eyes, he walked off – saying over his shoulder, ‘Turn the heat up?’

Bradley watched that long lean black–clad back for a long moment, then let himself in. All right, not too embarrassing… He kicked some of the partially–worn clothes into a corner so there was more carpet showing than not. Turned up the thermostat. Straightened the duvet and pillows. Looked around at the football posters. Nothing to be ashamed of there. Contemplated the U2 poster…

‘You’re Irish, aren’t you?’ Bradley asked when the door opened.

‘Aye.’

‘But I’m guessing… U2 aren’t emo enough, right?’ He frowned. ‘Or maybe not cool enough any more?’

A distant grin greeted this assessment. ‘They’re all right.’

‘Good.’

‘Revoke my citizenship if I didn’t like them, they would.’

‘Huh,’ Bradley said, in what was almost a laugh. Then he sighed. Looked around again. Books, plays, scripts, DVDs, scribbled tutorial notes, his laptop which booted up without the need for a password just because he’d never gotten around to setting that up, the emails from his mum and sisters… Oh, what the hell – Morgan wasn’t going to snoop that far, and anyway this was going to be embarrassing no matter what. ‘I’m gonna…’ he said, tilting his head towards the bathrooms just exactly as Morgan had.

‘All right.’

And Bradley walked out, leaving the guy there.

♦

When he came back, the duvet had been shoved onto the floor, and Morgan was stretched out long and lean on Bradley’s bed, in nothing but his black nail polish and his black leather wristbands and an intense expression. Like no one Bradley had ever bedded before. In no way like anyone he’d ever even wanted before. And yet, _This is it…_ he thought. _The real thing. This._ Bradley stood there, staring. Gaping. Then he thought to step inside and close the door behind him. Lock it. ‘I, uh –’ he managed.

Morgan lifted a hand towards him. ‘Come here.’

And he went, still fully dressed. Sat on the side of the bed to heel off his shoes – then shifted, lay down, moving into Morgan’s arms, taking him into his own. They pressed together, watching each other. Nothing they hadn’t already done, but now they were lying down, and Bradley’s hands as they moved downwards grazed over bare skin. He gasped a little, and went after a kiss, wanting to touch with mouth and hands and… and all of him. His cock kicked restlessly, constricted within denim and cotton – and he was aware of Morgan’s cock getting steadily larger and harder against his thigh. ‘Oh…’ he moaned, suddenly overwhelmed. ‘Oh…’

Those enigmatic blue eyes watching again, watching all the way into him now with a gentle intensity. Morgan murmured, ‘Done this before, stud?’

‘Not really.’ Laying himself utterly open.

‘What’s that mean?’

Bradley grimaced, and let his hands run further down to rest in the small of that lean back. ‘With a guy… potentially… a few times… Never went beyond a kiss and a cuddle before.’

‘But you want to this time?’

‘Yes. Yes.’

‘Good. Cos I want it. I want it all.’

‘Oh,’ he moaned, catching the man up in his arms. ‘Morgan –’

‘Colin.’

‘Colin – D’you mean you want to…’ He was on fire with excitement and fear.

The other man’s breath was coming hard, too, his hands demanding, clutching Bradley up close. ‘This time – you’d better – fuck me. Maybe next time –’

‘Next time?’ He was pressing kisses down that throat again, shifting over on top of Morgan – Colin – as he arched back. ‘God, I want… I want…’

Colin’s hands plucking at his clothes, impatient, actually ripping Bradley’s sweater where the seam was already worn down. Bradley surged up to his knees, wrestled his shirt and sweater off in one go, while Colin followed him up to mouth across his chest, to suddenly suckle at a nipple – Bradley stifled an unwanted giggle and pulled away – ‘Tickles!’ he protested – but Colin went with him, and began gnawing at that sensitive little nub of flesh in ways that made Bradley growl instead. He fumbled with his jeans – got them undone – they were both pushing down the denim, both mad with impatience now – Bradley’s cock suddenly springing out of hiding, flushed and hard –

Colin groaned a laugh, laughed a groan. ‘D’you want –?’ he asked, breathless. ‘Already?’

‘Yes – Yes –’

‘Rubbers, then.’

Bradley fell forward onto Colin – fumbled in the bedside drawer even as Colin shifted beneath him, driving him crazy with his slightly cool skin, his fine long muscles, his supple unexpected moves. Bradley at last drew back, producing a whole strip of condom packets and flourishing them in a desperate kind of triumph.

Colin laughed gutturally. ‘Will we be needing all of them, then?’

Bradley looked at him imploringly. He was _way_ beyond the joshing stage. Then, even as he tore one packet off the end, he belatedly thought, ‘Oh! But do we need… lube or something? I dunno. I –’

Another throaty laugh. Colin’s eyes flashed in contentment, need, humour. Like he was having an adventure and _loving_ it. ‘I can help you there.’ He wriggled out from under Bradley, dove down to reach for his jeans on the floor, leaning half out of the bed with his narrow arse pointing pertly towards Bradley – who groaned with a sudden doubling of hunger, and took the opportunity to discard his own jeans and briefs and socks. Then Colin was back on the bed, sliding a little packet out of his wallet, before carelessly tossing the wallet back on the floor and handing the packet over to Bradley, who was sitting on his heels now down the lower end of the bed. ‘Unless…’ Those enigmatic eyes considering him. ‘D’you want me to do the prep? The rehearsal,’ he amended with a tiny whimsical laugh.

Bradley tilted his head. ‘Show me. Unless it’s something even I can’t stuff up.’

‘I’m sure you get the general idea. It’s not rocket science.’

‘Look, I didn’t even know you could get lube in… sachets. I thought it came in tubes or something!’

Colin smiled at him, back to looking mysterious. Bradley remembered all the weeks of Colin saying nothing – saying very little to anyone, and nothing at all to Bradley – but just standing there across a room _staring_ at him. Bradley suddenly had a failure of nerve, and slid off to the side so that he leaned heavy against the wall. He stared gloomily at Colin, wondering what on earth they each thought they were doing.

But Colin’s smile became a little bit warmer, and he said reassuringly, ‘You’re right, it _does_ come in tubes.’ He gripped the sachet in fingers that Bradley noticed were long and pale and intriguing – tore it with a practiced move – took a large dollop on the first two fingers of his left hand. Then shifted to lie on his side with his back to Bradley, his upper leg bent forward to expose himself. Reached down – found his hole unerringly, and pushed inside.

Bradley moaned at the sight of those two long fingers disappearing inside that slim pale arse. He would have asked whether it hurt, except it so obviously didn’t – those fingers plunging all the way in and pulling out with absolutely _no_ resistance – and when he lifted his gaze, those enigmatic half–lidded eyes were watching him again, the blue burning hot – watching Bradley watching Colin finger–fucking himself. Bradley swallowed hard – his hunger abruptly quadrupling – and he reached a hand to Colin’s hip, looked again at those fingers pushing inside the man – said, ‘I want to be doing that.’

‘Come on, then.’

And he was fumbling with the condom, lying down behind Colin, aligning himself, pushing inside the man, guided by that knowing hand – and the tight pressure, the heat of it made him gasp, made him hunger all the more – wanting it, yearning for it even as he had it – this strange, wonderful, familiar, mad act – Colin’s breath harsh as he became hot, heavy, burning up like he was liquid fire – Bradley settling in closer behind him, each thrust requiring an odd effortful coordination of his whole clumsy body as if he were relearning _everything_ , pushing his face in against Colin’s shoulder – saying, ‘I want – I want this – _This!_ ’

‘It’s yours,’ Colin answered thickly, darkly.

And he was coming far too soon, but it was upon him before he realised, his breath tearing his throat ragged in a cry, that hot molten pour within him and out of him and within Colin – half exhilarated and half ashamed, he reached around to find Colin’s hand already on his own cock, and between them in two or three arrhythmic strokes they brought him off, too.

‘– oh god, oh god,’ Bradley found himself muttering, ‘oh god… All right?’

‘Yeah…’ Colin sounded utterly satisfied, it had to be said. ‘Oh, but next time –’

‘Next time?’ Bradley asked, not knowing what was expected here. Not caring for now. He carefully withdrew, dealt with the rubber – knotted it and tossed it in the bin. Fell back again, heavy and content, to settle with this lean masculine form stretched in his arms.

‘Next time,’ Colin confirmed. ‘Get some sleep, Bradley.’

‘That’s the first time you’ve said my name…’ And he drifted off into a doze.

♦

He came to about half an hour later, chilled to be lying there without any covers, but warm all down one side – where Colin lay on his front, propped on his elbows, frowning over a book. The one from class with all the Shakespeare speeches in it.

‘Hey,’ said Bradley.

‘Hey,’ Colin replied, glancing across at him. ‘All right?’

‘Yeah. You?’

‘Yeah.’

Bradley reached for the duvet, and pulled it up over them. ‘Bit cold.’ He thought about it. ‘Hungry, too.’

Colin grinned. ‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’

‘I don’t have anything much in. I’m out of milk, even! Wanna head down the diner?’

‘Need your sustenance?’

‘Yeah.’ He usually had an attack of the munchies after sex. He’d thought that was a guy thing. ‘Don’t you?’

Colin considered him. ‘We’re coming back here afterwards?’

‘Yeah?’ he said, doubtfully.

‘You owe me.’

‘Next time, you said.’ Bradley nodded, but not like he was agreeing to anything. ‘Nice you’re so keen, but –’

‘Not up for it, stud?’

‘ _Yeah_ , I’m up for it,’ he retorted, with his virility impugned. But then he softened a bit. ‘Just not sure what you want from me exactly.’

‘Tonight. Just tonight.’ Those eyes enigmatic again, that beautiful face unreadable, unknowable. ‘Give me all of tonight. Then I won’t bother you again.’

He shrugged a little. It wasn’t that he was thinking about a relationship or anything, but… ‘Tonight’s fine. Then let’s see, yeah? I mean, it’d be kind of odd if we’re not friends afterwards, wouldn’t it?’

That enigmatic look turned a bit quizzical, a bit intrigued. But Colin just shrugged, and echoed, ‘Tonight’s all I was looking for. But, yeah, if you like – let’s see.’

And Bradley mentally kicked himself as they got out of the bed and started sorting out their scattered clothes, because he still seemed to be functioning as if this were a gay John Hughes movie.

♦

Bradley rummaged around and eventually found his worn old leather jacket for Colin to wear because it would be even colder out by now and he only had a hoodie and his t–shirt, and because it was almost the only black item of clothing that Bradley even owned. They walked together to the diner on Farringdon Road, breath fogging, each with their hands shoved in their pockets and their elbows occasionally jostling each other as if in companionable banter.

He was only a bit embarrassed, not ashamed or anything, but Bradley had to admit to himself he was relieved to discover that the diner was almost empty, and there wasn’t anyone he knew there. Well, other than Wendy the waitress who seemed to be on duty 24/7, and was often asked whether she was a vampire or some other kind of undead creature, for she never seemed to sleep. Not that she cared. She just snapped her gum, and sharpened an eyebrow at them. _Drama students,_ Bradley could hear her reflecting. _They think they’re unique, they think they’re interesting, but they’re all the same, year in and year out._

Bradley ordered the full English breakfast, a pot of coffee and a long glass of milk. Wendy had already scribbled this down on her pad, of course, and turned a sharp brow to Colin, who sat poring over a corner of the menu. ‘You have all these vegetarian options!’ he observed.

‘Bright as a button, this one,’ muttered Wendy.

But then Colin smiled up at her, a sweeter and more candid smile than Bradley had been treated to that night – and she faltered. The ever–cool Wendy faltered. Bradley gaped. Colin confided, ‘I think my friends have been seriously misled. They’ll be coming here from now on.’

‘Huh,’ said Wendy. Colin ordered mushroom–and–eggplant lasagne with salad and fruit juice, and sat back looking happy while she stalked away.

‘You’re a veggie?’ Bradley asked, trying not to blurt out the assumption that’s why Colin was so pale and slim.

Colin shrugged. ‘I’d like to be.’

‘So why aren’t you?’

‘I am mostly, now. But, you know…’ A sidelong shift of those eyes. ‘When you don’t have much money, you don’t have the same choices. If someone buys you a hamburger, you eat the damned hamburger. And you appreciate it too much to really care about the compromise.’

‘Right.’ Bradley nodded. He’d been lucky enough – or, perhaps more to the point, his mum and his father had been generous enough – that he’d never had to worry about things like that. On the other hand, he couldn’t think of any really interesting choices that he might have made differently, given more resources. ‘Right,’ he said again. ‘Uh, I’m good for this,’ he commented as casually as he could, circling a finger at the table. Which was what he’d offer on a date with a girl, after all.

Colin had already gone back into his shell a bit. ‘Nah, that’s not what I meant. I’m good for it, too. I got a grant to be here this year.’ And he sighed, and gazed down at the table, apparently pondering something weighty.

The silence grew. Bradley sighed a little, too, reflecting how he wasn’t so great at these bits. The silences and the fits and starts during that tricky period when you were no longer acquaintances but you weren’t yet proper friends. He backtracked a little, figured the money issue was too personal, the veggie thing had been done, the fact that Colin only wore black wasn’t much of a conversation generator, Colin’s intentions for ‘next time’ were not discussable in a public place… and that took him back as far as the book of Shakespeare. ‘Which of those speeches are you gonna do?’ Bradley asked. When Colin looked at him a bit coolly, he added, ‘The Shakespeare, I mean, for Mr Novak’s class.’

‘I knew what you meant.’ Colin narrowed his eyes. ‘I bet I know what you’re gonna do. St Crispin’s Day, right?’

Bradley shrugged. Colin seemed unimpressed. ‘Yeah,’ Bradley admitted. ‘Why?’

‘Nothing.’

‘No, tell me.’

Colin shrugged, too. ‘Well, it’s a bit obvious, isn’t it?’

‘I guess,’ he admitted. ‘But this one speech is worth fifty percent of the mark for the whole class! I figured better safe than sorry.’

‘And it’s a good choice,’ Colin said stoutly now that Bradley had laid himself bare. He lifted a hand, and gestured to encompass all of Bradley. ‘You’re, like, the quintessential prince of England, aren’t you? You’re Prince Hal, and Edward the Black Prince, and Prince William, all rolled into one. You include me in your _band of brothers_ , and I’d follow you anywhere.’

Bradley snorted. ‘Yeah, for a _shag_ , maybe.’

‘No, I mean it,’ Colin said very seriously. ‘You’ll be great. But it’s so obvious. We should be pushing the boundaries while we’re here. They’ll close in again soon enough once we’re gone.’

After a moment, Bradley asked, ‘What are you doing, then?’

Colin did his sidelong shift of the eyes thing again, and then slumped a little. ‘Well. I was going to do Queen Mab. You know.’

‘Mercutio?’ When Colin nodded, Bradley blurted out happily, ‘You’ll be great!’ He could just see the lean enigmatic Colin Morgan embodying the intelligence and unpredictability, the feyness and queerness, the danger and allure of Romeo’s beloved friend Mercutio… ‘Oh,’ he said, finally understanding. ‘That’s a bit obvious, too, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah.’ Which was when their meals arrived.

♦

By the time they’d taken the edge off their hunger, Bradley had found a conversational opening. ‘So, I guess you haven’t done any serious acting before. You haven’t studied it. Given you’re in the Foundation Course this year.’

Colin mused over this for a bit, and finally shook his head. ‘Haven’t done much of anything over the past five years.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Since leaving home, leaving school. It’s just been a series of odd jobs, really. Just whatever I needed to get by.’

‘So, what made you get into acting?’ Bradley asked.

After a moment Colin looked at him sharply, as if he’d been caught out. But then he asked, quite reasonably, ‘What about you? Did you do any acting in school?’

‘Some.’ Bradley shrugged. ‘It was always either acting or football for me. I didn’t tell many people that – I just went with football. Then – you know the old story – a stupid injury at the wrong time, and the dreams suddenly got a whole lot more difficult.’

‘Isn’t that the bit in the movie where you find inspiration in the strangest place, knuckle down, work hard, confront the obstacles and rise above the challenges?’

Bradley favoured him with a droll look. ‘Well, I guess they weren’t very realistic dreams in the first place. Eventually even I had to admit I’d never play for Arsenal.’

Colin nodded, as if he understood and sympathised. They were silent for a while. But then, once Colin had cleaned off his entire plate, he sat back and considered Bradley with a new sort of seriousness.

‘What?’ said Bradley.

‘ _These_ dreams of yours… The acting dreams? _They’re_ realistic.’

Bradley eyed him warily.

‘I’ve been watching you. _Not_ just checking you out. But really watching what you do. You’re good. You’re gonna be really good. Not just a pretty face.’ Finally the seriousness cracked a little. ‘Though you are that, as well.’

‘Um…’ Bradley hardly knew what to say. No one ever talked like that to him, and certainly not anyone of his own age. ‘Thanks.’

Colin just nodded, as if to say, _You’re welcome_.

‘Look,’ Bradley blurted without letting himself think too hard about it. ‘We should swap. The speeches, I mean. We should swap, and coach each other.’

Colin was grinning, like he’d already got it at some level, like he already loved it, but he asked, ‘What d’you mean?’

‘You do St Crispin’s Day, and I’ll do Queen Mab. We’ve got a bit more than a week. You’re good, too, you know. You’re _bloody_ good. We’ll blow them away! Mr Novak won’t know what hit him.’

‘Oh, Bradley!’ Colin cried out, absolutely delighted. He actually reached out and grabbed Bradley’s hand where it lay on the table. ‘Bradley James. Genius.’

‘We’ll do it, then?’

‘No – No, I can’t,’ Colin said, though still with that beautiful grin on his face. ‘ _You_ should, though. You’ll be brilliant. Just pretend to be me doing it. Just imagine what I’d do, and run with it. God, I’d give anything to see that.’

‘But why won’t you? I want you to coach me, and –’

Colin shook his head, and that grin faded a little. A grasp of his hand, then it was withdrawn. ‘I can’t. I’m sorry. That’s such a _fucking_ brilliant idea, though, and I love you for it.’

Silence.

They stared at each other, both of them suddenly gone cold. ‘Fuck,’ Colin said eventually. ‘Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be. I didn’t mean anything by that. Or if I did, I only meant a friends thing. I’m really not looking for anything more than tonight, Bradley, I can promise you that.’

After a moment, he nodded kind of dumbly. Cos he understood the burst of enthusiasm out of which that had come. But it just wasn’t… It wasn’t the word he needed to hear right now.

‘I’m sorry. Look, don’t let me stuff this up. We’ve got hours to go yet, and I really want this to work. Just for tonight.’

‘All right,’ he found himself saying, though he wasn’t entirely sure he meant it. Or maybe he did, at some deep level, below the shock. There was some instinctive thing behind his response, there was a significant part of him that wanted this to work, too, for tonight. Maybe for longer. He’d have to see. But that’s what he wanted. To spend the rest of the night with Colin, and then see. ‘All right,’ he said again.

And Colin smiled at him, perfectly genuine, if a little shaky. And he softly repeated, ‘All right.’

♦

On the walk back to Marlowe Hall, Bradley had his hands stuffed deep in his jeans pockets and his shoulders hunched up around his ears, and it wasn’t just about the cold. Despite which, Colin was soon drawing Bradley into talking about his mum and his two sisters, about how being the only man in the family for the past few years had brought responsibilities with it – responsibilities that weren’t unwelcome – but also about how being the youngest child by a fair margin had meant that he was always the one who was beloved and indulged – not for his own merits, necessarily, but because that was the role he was called on to play. Though they meant it, of course they meant the love. It was just… Well, families were strange and complicated things even when they were wonderful and mostly happy.

Colin seemed fascinated, and he also seemed to instinctively understand. But Bradley found soon enough that Colin was masterful in deflecting any enquiries about his own family. He was used to keeping his own counsel, obviously, even if he was interested in learning about other people. Not that there was all that much of interest about Bradley, really. ‘Don’t quiz me too much,’ Bradley warned him as they reached the main doors of the hall, and Bradley belatedly began fumbling for his keys. ‘You’ve almost got the whole Bradley James story already, and if I lose any remaining air of mystery, you’ll soon get bored.’

A rueful chuckle greeted this. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t think so…’

‘No, really – I’m just a very ordinary kind of guy.’

Colin threw him a disbelieving look as they started up the stairs. ‘You’re kidding.’

‘I’m not… intriguing, like you.’

‘Yeah, right,’ came the light, ironic response. ‘So, _why_ have I been yearning for you since the first day I saw you? Since the first day of school? Despite all the reasons why I shouldn’t?’

‘Uh, the pretty face?’

‘No.’ Very flatly and honestly, though it was followed by another rueful chuckle. ‘No. Though I have to admit that’s a bonus.’

‘Well,’ said Bradley, unwisely. ‘Why, then?’

And Colin lay a gentle hand on his arm, stopped him there in the corridor leading down to his room, amidst the doors to everyone else’s rooms… which were all closed for now, but could open at any moment to reveal witnesses. Colin’s hands running up Bradley’s arms now, from his elbows to his shoulders, and he was leaning in close to brush his lips against Bradley’s, softly, teasingly. To murmur, ‘ _I’m intrigued._ ’

And Bradley felt it in his cock and his balls, in his gut and his heart, in his mind and – and as Colin backed away again, leading the way down to room twenty–three, Bradley followed, his mouth hungering for Colin’s and all the rest of him hungering, too.

♦

He needed something to cling to once they were alone again behind a locked door. He needed words, thoughts. He felt kind of lost, otherwise. They’d each discarded their jackets, their shoes, their sweaters, and were now sitting on the side of the bed in t–shirts and jeans and socks, close together, sharing their warmth. Colin had this lovely yet unnervingly knowing smile curving those delicious lips, and Bradley needed something solid to cling to. ‘Uh,’ he said, grasping at straws. Casting about him, and seeing nothing but Colin Morgan. Finally indicating his t–shirt. That would do. ‘What’s _Midnight_ , then? Is it a brand of clothes, or something?’

‘No, a band. A really cool band.’

‘Emo stuff, I guess.’

‘Yeah.’ The smile turned amused, and a little less unnerving. ‘They’re a local band. Well, basically a Bloomsbury thing. On the cusp of making it – they’ve just signed a recording deal. It’s kinda… Well, I’m glad they’re making a success of it, and there’s gonna be properly produced CDs and all, but… They’ve kinda been our secret, you know? And we’re losing that. We’re losing something that’s become… part of our lives.’

Bradley nodded. He could relate to that.

‘There’s this gig on Saturday.’ Colin looked wistful.

‘You’re going?’

‘It’s, like, just for us hardcore fans. Probably the last one they’ll do like this, in their best old venue. Just a small thing. Like a farewell.’ Colin sighed, considered his thoughts for a moment, and then considered Bradley. Despite which, he remained wistful. ‘Everything’s changing.’

‘I guess that’s not always a bad thing,’ Bradley offered.

‘Not always,’ Colin responded lightly. ‘No.’

‘Well, you know… when they have a CD out, I’ll get a copy.’

Colin smiled again, a little more warmly. ‘Listen to them now, if you want.’ He pushed a hand into one of the back pockets of his jeans, and produced a tiny black MP3 player. ‘You might like them.’

‘I might,’ he allowed, though privately he thought it unlikely. Not that that meant anything about whether this Midnight group were any good or not. It’s just that Bradley was an ordinary guy with mainstream tastes, and it was highly unlikely that Midnight would appeal to him as immediately as U2 always had.

Colin was unwinding the leads, handing him an earbud. Apparently they were going to share.

‘Look,’ said Bradley, who had other things on his mind, even if he was nervous as hell. ‘D’you just wanna listen? Is it that kind of thing? Or can we make out as well?’

And Colin grinned at him, happily, just _all_ of him right there and suddenly so very happy. ‘We can make out,’ he said. So they did.

♦

Bradley on his back, with Colin in his arms, Colin lying half over him, moving over him – and for a while he could fool himself into thinking he was in charge, but he wasn’t, that was the truth of the matter – this was Colin’s _next time_ , and the man obviously had plans. Intentions. Bradley shivered, guessing at what those intentions were, _knowing_ it really, but not yet willing to think too much about it.

They were still mostly dressed, though Colin seemed to have lost at least one of his socks, for his bare toes kept creeping up within Bradley’s jeans and rubbing at his ankle, shaping themselves to the bone there. Also, Bradley’s t–shirt was hitched up high enough for Colin to have access to his chest, and Colin was investing a great deal of time and attention to proving that nipples were indeed erogenous zones on men, and not necessarily ticklish at all. Bradley felt like he was slowly being taken apart. And Colin hadn’t even gotten to the serious stuff yet. Which he was going to do. He was like the _irresistible force_ some fellow student had been spouting off about in a class recently. And Bradley was finding that Bradley himself was in no way an _immovable object_.

‘Colin…’ he murmured at some stage. It was probably about three in the morning by then. His earbud had fallen out unnoticed, but then Colin had taken his out as well, as if Bradley deserved his undivided attention. ‘Colin, get on with it, would you…? You’re gonna drive me mad.’

‘Yeah? How’re you feeling?’

‘God, my balls are aching with it. My cock is aching…’

He chuckled a little, low and dirty. ‘Good. I wanna be _thorough_. I want this to be worth it.’

‘Thorough…’ Bradley echoed a bit blankly. ‘Is that about… _gurgh…_ ’ he groaned as Colin’s hands suddenly swept down to shape themselves to either side of Bradley’s waist, which seemed to have been sensitised along with every other part of him. ‘Is that about fully converting me? So I can’t just say _potentially_ ever again?’ He added wretchedly, ‘I know what you’re planning to do.’

‘Yes.’ Colin looked at him very levelly, intensely yet somehow calmly, and said, ‘Yes, I’m going to fuck you, Bradley James.’

‘Oh…’ Bradley shuddered to hear it said, though he’d known all along. ‘ _Colin…_ ’

‘But it’s not about _converting_ you. You are what you are. Wherever you are on the continuum, you know? Sorry if you can’t handle that.’

‘Yeah, well…’ Bradley sighed, trying to feel reluctant and failing utterly. He was apprehensive, sure. But not reluctant. ‘Guess I might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb,’ he commented stoutly.

‘It’s not a hanging offence any more, Bradley.’

‘Good to know.’ Which was the last even halfway clever thing he managed to say for quite some while.

♦

Colin got up to his knees, and pulled off his own t–shirt, then grabbed two handfuls of Bradley’s shirt from behind his raised shoulders and tugged it up and over his head, down his arms. Then those long pale fingers of Colin’s were unbuttoning and unzipping Bradley’s jeans, wrestling denim and cotton down to just the top of Bradley’s thighs so that his cock and balls were exposed, and the curve of his rear now rested on the cool sheets. Bradley moaned a little in need, closing his eyes – then opening them again with a gasp when that tongue of Colin’s rasped up Bradley’s cock.

For what felt like hours, then, Colin’s mouth roamed over him, taking him apart with lips and teeth and tongue, doing things to him that Bradley hadn’t even imagined before. Colin took one of his balls into his mouth and gently sucked at it until Bradley began to wonder if he could come from that alone. And then he nuzzled his nose in immediately behind Bradley’s balls, using the tip of it to nudge against a spot that felt so utterly intimate, a place Bradley hadn’t even been aware of before.

By the time Colin lifted up again and wrestled the last of Bradley’s clothes off, Bradley was utterly completely compliant. Colin could do any damn thing he wanted to Bradley now, and Bradley would love it. He _knew_ he would love it. He was warm with trust, hot with lust, melting with need. His knees bent and his thighs fell apart without Colin even asking, and Colin settled in between them to continue his mouth’s exploration, and Bradley thought dazedly of trees and how if his cock was the trunk then that ridge running back behind his balls was the tap root, and why had no one ever pleasured more than the trunk before, why had no one… even he hadn’t realised… hadn’t realised…

The tip of Colin’s nose suddenly bumped against the entrance to him, pushed teasingly provocatively for a moment, not breaching him of course, but the push and the tension of the not–quite–breaching was strangely delicious in its own right, and oh if it wasn’t obvious that he’d surrendered again and again already then his voice was making it earthily clear, and when Colin brushed his hand against one of Bradley’s knees then with the barest hint of a push Bradley rolled over onto his front with his hips tilted and his thighs spread, his rear poking up needily hopefully wanting it to be irresistibly… _oh god… Colin… please, Colin…_

Colin kneeling between Bradley’s thighs, leaning down over him, reaching a hand to trail fingertips across the side of Bradley’s face that wasn’t pressed into the pillow, and Bradley caught one of those long slim pale fingers in his mouth, knowing where it would be going next, and moaning begging to be breached, to be broached. Colin finding another of his lube sachets, and showing Bradley, letting him _wanting_ him to watch as he squeezed out the lube on those fingers, used fingertips to spread it down and around his second finger – and then while he was still leaning over him, watching Bradley’s face, Colin reached down and pressed that fingertip against him for a moment, before carefully firmly insistently sliding in, just smoothly pushing through the remaining physical resistance and sliding all the way in, deep within him – his breath hard and damp against the pillow, his body not moving, not his own any more, but heavy and hot and horny so goddamned horny he thought he’d pass out from need except he had to stay conscious for this he had to experience everything, _every_ thing whether tiny or significant. Colin watching him, watching him, that finger easing in and out, in and out, until it wasn’t enough it wasn’t enough and he gasped ‘please – please –’

A kiss pressed to his cheek as Colin reached for the strip of condoms, drew back to roll one onto that long cock, that impressive cock, thick and certainly not as elegant as Colin’s fingers, both promising and threatening, and Bradley wanted it, god he wanted it there was nothing else in the _world_ ‘want it – please – want it – don’t care –’

‘All right,’ Colin was murmuring soothingly, ‘All right, Bradley,’ and he was kind and he’d be careful, but he wasn’t so kind that he wouldn’t be fucking Bradley in a moment, fucking him with that impressive cock, broaching his virgin arse –

Strung out and needing – ‘oh god _please_ ’

‘All right, I’m here –’ and suddenly he was _there_ – inside – _inside_ –

– and resistance and hurt but Bradley welcomed that too and he groaned cried growled out a long guttural ‘arrrgh’ – and Colin moving over him Colin moving within him – and it was the most intense awesome thing he’d _ever_ felt, fucking _fucking_ they were _fucking_ , awe he felt _awe_ like he couldn’t even _comprehend_ what he felt –

And it went on and on forever and it wasn’t long enough it couldn’t be long enough, and yet eventually it was too much and he begged ‘please – please –’ and Colin pushed a hand below them to wrap those long fingers around Bradley’s cock, and he was spilling it went on forever, spilling the pleasure of it, and somehow that made him clutch tighter still at Colin, who cried out brokenly and lost it just totally lost it, they were fucking god and Colin was thrusting and keening like a mad thing as he came –

And then lying there, still within him, as their breath came harsh, coming back down to themselves after the most incredible thing ever, and – and –

‘Bradley, _god_ …’

‘I know. I know.’

‘God…’ And Colin dragged himself up for a moment as if he almost didn’t have the strength, reached down to secure the condom as he pulled out. Empty – _fuck_ – empty and painful and Bradley shouted hoarsely as a spasm shook through him – but Colin quickly dealt with the rubber, and as soon as he could he pressed the palm of his hand to Bradley’s arse, and somehow knew exactly how to ease him, how to bear down on the hurt and make it go away.

And then Bradley couldn’t even move, didn’t want Colin to move, wanted to feel him draped heavily down his back like that _forever_ , and he said, ‘Don’t go. Sleep. Sleep now. Here.’

‘Yes,’ said Colin, sounding as if his heart were breaking apart along deep fault lines. ‘Yes, Bradley. Yes. Sleep.’

And darkness fell on Bradley like the weight of the entire night, but Colin was there holding him they were lying pressed together like two–made–one and Bradley had never ever felt so utterly _right_.

♦

It wasn’t like the bed was big enough for them to lie separately anyway, but Bradley was left with a whole string of sense memories, if that was even a thing, of Colin wrapped around him, Colin plastered against his back, Colin sleepily snuffling kisses against Bradley’s nape, then Bradley hauling himself over onto his back to take that long lean form into his arms, that beautiful face pressed into his throat, that thick dark hair tickling his cheek so he had to turn closer in and press against it, and once in the darkness they reached for each other barely half–awake and brought each other off with their hands and with their mouths sharing moans kisses breaths unformed words, and then Bradley sank back away into sleep again.

♦

He awoke to the confusion of a loud ringtone that wasn’t his, and a dry mouth, sore head and sorer arse, and a body in his bed that certainly wasn’t a girl. But he smiled. Bradley knew enough to smile. Colin Morgan, that weird fucking emo punk, that intense wonderful intriguing person, that _amazing_ fucking lover… Colin was sprawled half across Bradley and out of the bed, fumbling with his phone, at last ending the harsh racket and muttering, ‘H’lo.’

Colin went horribly still for a moment. Then he quickly sat up with his back to the wall, drawing his knees up to this chest and staring across the narrow room as if gazing into the abyss. ‘Colin?’ Bradley murmured thickly.

But the man didn’t hear him. Instead he listened for a while as some masculine voice at the other end talked hard and fast, and eventually Colin complained, ‘Aw, fuck it, Neil…’ There was a querying note in the caller’s response, then Colin said, ‘No, you just caught me. Ironic, ain’t it? Everything changed last night, and you caught me just before I took the next exit.’ A roll of the eyes greeted another long response. ‘Tell them what you like. What the fuck do I care? Do what you like. _As per fucking usual._ ’ Then Colin seemed to lose what little remained of his patience. ‘Going now. **_Goodbye_** , Neil.’ And he ended the call.

Then those long pale fingers were suddenly plucking at the phone, violently clumsily taking it apart. He wasn’t quite quick enough – it started ringing again, but a moment later it was in two pieces, and the battery was thrown on the floor, and Colin was prying out the SIM card. ‘Scissors,’ he demanded, looking at Bradley for the first time.

Bradley sat up in the bed and stretched across to his desk drawer to rummage for the scissors. Then he watched as Colin shakily cut the little card into tiny and even tinier pieces, and let them scatter down into the bin. ‘Colin…’

A dry sob welled up within Colin and quaked through that slim body, but when Bradley instinctively moved to take the man into his arms, Colin held out a hand to prevent him. ‘Give me a minute.’

‘All right.’

It took him a little while to gather himself, but eventually Colin turned a calmer face to him. Sad and drawn, but also warm and fond. ‘Sorry. Don’t let me spoil this. It’s been a great night. An awesome night. More than I ever imagined. And, I mean, I wouldn’t have dared to even _hope_ if I had imagined it…’

‘Me, too,’ Bradley managed. It felt odd to be sitting there in the bed not touching when they had shared something so incredible, but then he suspected that many of the ways in which he and Colin would be together would feel a bit odd. ‘Colin, I –’

That hand again preventing him. ‘I want you to know it’s been worth it. Whatever happens next, whatever doesn’t happen – it’s been worth it.’

‘Well,’ said Bradley. ‘Good. But I –’

And then Colin was in his arms again, and they were kissing, and they were laughing just because it felt so _right_ and was so fucking _delight_ ful. Then Colin was gathering up his clothes, saying something about a class or getting to school maybe. ‘I’m going to have a shower, all right?’

‘All right,’ said Bradley, and he lay back down again to wait, and Colin pressed one more kiss to his cheek. Bradley dozed off for a while, and when he woke he was alone and a bit cold, and he knew somehow that Colin had already gone.

♦  


## Colin

  


> He waited down the road behind the rickety old fence palings of the vacant lot until he saw Joe leave, and then he let himself into the flat. It hardly took any time at all to gather the essentials and stuff them into his backpack. He was used to abandoning things that he would’ve wanted to keep if life didn’t have to be like this. He’d taken Bradley’s black leather jacket, though. He hadn’t been able to resist that. Bradley’s scent lingered on it, like it lingered on his own skin. He’d take that scent with him, too, for a little while at least. He booted up Joe’s computer and logged onto his own MySpace page, found the ‘secrets’ meme and copied it into a new blog post. Scrolled down to find a blank entry between ‘22. i broke that promise i made to you, a few times’ and ‘24. To his friends and family: I am truly sorry, I didn’t mean to.’ He typed, ‘I love him. I love him. I love him. But now that I’ve had him, I have to leave.’ Then he shut everything down, picked up his gear, and headed for the Drama Centre’s admin office. But once he’d completed the withdrawal form he sat there for hours, physically unable to sign it. He’d finally found something he wanted to do. And now he had to leave.

♦  


## Bradley

  
He had a tutorial from eleven to twelve, and then he tracked down his friends in the cafeteria. They fell silent one by one as they saw Bradley approach, and were all staring at him by the time he reached their table. And he couldn’t help but grin, cos he’d gotten spectacularly lucky, but he was also a bit shamed, cos it was with someone none of them would envy him for. And he wasn’t really sure if this walk on the wild side would be perceived as daringly cool or disastrously compromising. Well, Kevin was gaping at him with a distasteful kind of twist to his mouth, so Bradley guessed that meant compromised. Santiago, however, was smiling a bit wryly, a bit fondly, so that must mean cool. Bradley sat down next to Santiago, leaned back and crossed his arms. Looked around, challenging anyone to make anything of it.

Kevin finally exclaimed in horror, ‘You _didn’t_ , did you?!’

‘Uh, yeah. I did.’

‘You did that Colin Morgan guy?’ Kevin looked like he could hardly bear to even say it. ‘That ridiculous emo punk?’

‘Not that it’s any of your business. But, yeah. And obviously he’s not ridiculous.’

‘Did he do you?’ Rick asked.

‘Shut up, Rick,’ they all chorused – while Bradley went bright red and shifted uncomfortably on his chair, giving the whole game away.

Santiago was grinning with delight. ‘Well, well – Bradley James. You’re full of surprises.’

Bradley returned his smile, grateful and pleased. ‘Sometimes I surprise even myself.’

‘Good. This is good. And were you both happy?’

‘Yes!’ Bradley blurted, blushing at this unexpected question that actually cut right to the chase. Santiago could be refreshingly un–English at times. ‘Yes, we were.’

‘Excellent.’ Santiago was a few years older than the rest of them, and certainly a great deal more mature. His approval right then meant the world to Bradley.

But just as Bradley was starting to relax, Colin’s friend Joe came stalking over in high dudgeon and loudly demanded, ‘Where is he? What have you done with him?’ Which prompted several rather unhelpful sniggers and guffaws from around the table.

Bradley, feeling just permanently flushed and terminally self–conscious by now, retorted as reasonably as he could, ‘I haven’t seen him since this morning. He must be around somewhere. He said he was heading for school.’

‘He missed our tutorial.’

Bradley shrugged. ‘He’ll be at Mr Novak’s class later, I’m sure he will. He – Well, we talked about the speeches we’re going to do next week.’

Joe narrowed his eyes, and as if it were a test he asked, ‘What did he say about the one he’s doing?’

‘He’s planning to do Mercutio’s Queen Mab speech. But…’ Bradley glanced around at his friends, though he didn’t suppose he was really betraying a confidence. And anyway, they were all going to have to get used to the notion that not only was Colin crushing on Bradley James, but that Bradley was already half in love with Colin Morgan. ‘But he was worried that it’s a bit too obvious. We… talked about alternatives. You know?’

And Joe sagged a little, and nodded, and he agreed, ‘I know.’

‘He’ll turn up,’ said Bradley. And then he pronounced Colin’s name for the first time in company. ‘Colin will turn up.’

Joe, however, would not be reassured. ‘You’d better hope so! Cos otherwise… Because otherwise, it’s bad.’

♦

But Colin didn’t show up for Mr Novak’s class, so Bradley and Joe and as a result half the rest of the students sat there in a tense state of distraction for most of it. Mr Novak asked the two culprits to stay behind afterwards, and he asked them what was going on.

In return Joe set his jaw as if they’d have to rip out his fingernails to get him to talk.

‘This isn’t high school, Mr Dempsie,’ said Mr Novak. ‘We’re all on the same side here.’

‘We’re not sure where Colin is,’ Bradley explained. ‘Colin Morgan.’ And he blushed yet again as Mr Novak turned to him with a lifted brow – he could _see_ the teacher’s mental cogs whirring as he added two and two together to make five. Everyone had known Colin had a crush on Bradley, after all. _Everyone_.

‘When did you see him last?’ Mr Novak eventually asked.

‘Last night,’ said Joe.

‘This morning,’ said Bradley.

‘Ah. Why is this an issue? I can overlook one missed class, especially in Mr Morgan’s case. Or do you have reason to fear for him?’

Bradley went cold. He’d just felt impatient and lonely and a bit… uncertain before. Now he was scared.

Joe shrugged. ‘No. Not like he’s in danger. Just like… he’s moving on. He’s done it before.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Mr Novak.

‘He never sticks around anywhere for very long,’ Joe eventually confessed, after Mr Novak and Bradley took turns at insisting that he explain. ‘He just keeps leaving places behind. Leaving _people_ behind.’

‘You’ve known him for a while, though,’ Bradley observed. ‘Haven’t you? I dunno. I got that impression.’

‘He brought me with him from the last place. Liverpool. I don’t think he’s done that before. But he thought he’d found what he really wanted to do. I thought he was kind of settling in.’ Joe flashed a resentful glare at Bradley. ‘Then _you_ had to go force the issue.’

‘ _Me?_ ’ Bradley protested. ‘This isn’t _my_ fault.’

‘Yes, it is! You _know_ it is!’

‘Hey, if he somehow got the idea last night that I don’t want him to stay around… Well, he’d have been totally misreading the situation.’

Joe was furious, though, and looked like he might well spit in Bradley’s face. ‘ _It’s cos he cares about you, you great fucking dolt!_ Christ! He never cared for _me_ like that. That’s why he let me come along! Don’t you get it? Once he cares too much, _then he leaves_.’

Bradley stared at Joe, bewildered and trying to process all this. Was Colin really that sad? He’d always been a bit weird, sure, but was he so discontented in himself that he couldn’t let himself enjoy life? ‘We were happy,’ Bradley said, and he sounded kind of wrecked even to himself. ‘Last night, it was good. We were good together.’

Joe sighed, and sagged against the nearest table. ‘That just makes it worse for him, see?’

And there had been things said, or left unsaid – or said in unexpected ways, perhaps – that now made more sense to Bradley. But something else belatedly occurred to Bradley. ‘Look. All right. So it’s partly my fault, I get that. But who’s this guy Neil? He called this morning, and Colin freaked out. He _destroyed_ his phone. And then he left. That’s when he left.’

Joe was totally despairing now. ‘He’s gone, then. Neil’s his brother, his older brother. Every now and then Neil manages to track him down. And if there hasn’t been reason to leave before, that’s like the final trigger.’

‘No,’ said Bradley. ‘No. We’re gonna fix this.’

‘It’s too late already.’

‘But _you_ said this is something he really wants to do. Drama school, yeah? Acting.’ Bradley turned to their teacher. ‘And he’s good, isn’t he? Mr Novak? Or am I biased? Cos I think he’s brilliant.’

Mr Novak smiled a little, sadly. ‘He _is_ brilliant, Mr James. And, if I may say so, it takes one to know one.’

‘We are going to fix this,’ Bradley said, quite determined.

‘I will check with the faculty offices,’ said Mr Novak, ‘to see if Mr Morgan has been in today. Mr James, why don’t you check with the administration offices?’

‘Sure. And, Joe, you know where he lives, right?’

‘Yeah.’ A wan smile. ‘With me. We share a flat.’

‘Well, you go there. See if he’s been home. See if he’s there now!’

Bradley and Joe exchanged phone numbers before the three of them went their separate ways.

♦

Bradley dashed into the admin office, groaned to see the usual long queue of bored students in front of the service desk and the usual oblivious bustle behind it. So, all right, no one was going to be paying him any kind of attention for a while yet. But as he turned to look distractedly around the room, his breath stopped in his mouth. A moment later his brain caught up, and he registered that the damned elusive Colin Morgan was actually sitting there at a table in the far corner, chewing on a pen and bothering over a form. Just as soon as he could draw his breath down into his lungs again, Bradley took a step in that direction.

Which was when Colin’s head lifted, and he gaped a bit to see Bradley approaching him. Bradley tried a tentative smile, and took another step. But then Colin’s chin jutted out in sudden determination, he bent his head and signed the form with a quick scrawl. He was on his feet and carrying the form over to the service desk before Bradley could even get his mouth around a ‘Hey!’ An admin person reached out to take the form with unnecessary efficiency, and Colin was heading for the door with a suspiciously bulky backpack slung over one shoulder. ‘Wait!’ Bradley managed. ‘Colin, please. _Wait._ ’

Colin stopped, and turned to him with that chin still obdurate.

‘Is that what I think it is? You’re withdrawing?’

No reply but stubbornness.

Bradley would have thought the emo attitude would infuriate him, but instead he found that his heart was melting in sympathy, aching in empathy. ‘Colin, you belong here. You’re brilliant. Don’t let me stuff this up for you.’

The façade cracked a little in pain. Colin glanced around briefly, but he seemed hardly even aware of their audience. Then he considered Bradley coolly for a long moment – before stepping forward, cupping Bradley’s face in both hands, the tips of those long fingers rubbing sensitive skin by Bradley’s ears, his temple. And Colin was kissing him, _kissing_ him. And it was passionate and intense and all the things that a kiss should be – it was peace and home and horniness and happiness amidst the chaos – except that it was also public, and it was a farewell, which it shouldn’t be at all.

Colin pulled back, broke away. Cast Bradley a bitterly regretful look. And headed for the door while Bradley was still stunned by excitement, embarrassment.

A timeless moment later Bradley shook himself, and the bustle of the office rose around him again. His every instinct was already chasing after Colin, but he forced himself to turn to the woman who’d taken Colin’s withdrawal form. ‘Do not process that!’ he cried.

She reacted with misgivings – which was probably fair enough, for who was Bradley to meddle in Colin’s business?

‘I know you won’t give me the form or throw it away or anything like that, but _please_.’ Calling on all his powers of persuasion. ‘At least give him twenty–four hours. He’s not in a great frame of mind for making decisions right now.’

Eventually she nodded with some reluctance, and then deliberately slipped the form into a tray under a whole bundle of other papers. Bradley thanked her and dashed outside.

♦

But of course by then Colin had disappeared. Bradley ran around a bit, checking all the obvious places around the Drama Centre – the cafeteria, the library, the shadowed end of the courtyard where the emo punks hung out. Except he knew all along it was useless, and nowhere at or near the school was obvious at all any more, except maybe the Farringdon Tube station but he was way too late for that now.

Eventually Bradley gave up, and started walking towards Osbourne Road, though he had no idea where exactly Colin’s flat was. He soon met a disconsolate Joe coming the other way, and they tersely exchanged notes. ‘It’s too late,’ Joe concluded. ‘His stuff’s gone. Not all of it, but the stuff he’d want that he could carry. It’s no use. And he’s withdrawn, you say.’

‘Well, he filled in the form. I’m gonna talk to Mr Novak. Maybe they can put a hold on it while we try to find Colin.’

‘If he doesn’t want to be found, we won’t get very far. Christ, this is awful.’

‘Yeah, it is.’ But Bradley could do obdurate, too. ‘Look. So, there’s this brother Neil. And Colin said to him, _Tell them what you like._ Does that mean there are parents, too?’

Joe shrugged. ‘Yeah. Back in Ireland. Somewhere in Northern Ireland – not Belfast. A smaller town. But the point is that he hasn’t even spoken to them since he left home, when he was sixteen or something. He’s only spoken to Neil – and that’s only cos he has to every now and then.’

‘Don’t you think, if we managed to track them down, they might have a clue where he’d go?’

‘No.’

Bradley sighed, and shrugged. No doubt Joe had a point – and anyway there was probably no use in muddying the waters if Colin’s parents hadn’t heard from him in so long. They’d only be upset to get that kind of call out of the blue. ‘Well, how would we get hold of Neil? Is he in Ireland, or is he over here?’

‘Dunno.’ Joe squinted at him. ‘Did he do that thing where he destroys his SIM card?’

‘Yeah.’

‘So there’s no way to even find the number where Neil called from.’ Joe shrugged hopelessly. ‘He’s too good at this. I figure he’s had a lot of practice.’

Bradley found himself patting Joe Dempsie’s shoulder in reassurance. God, this was bizarre. The people he ended up befriending… ‘Don’t worry. I’ve got a couple of ideas.’

♦

Midnight’s farewell gig was billed as ‘So long, and thanks for all the fish’. Bradley rolled his eyes, but he also found that he’d chuckled. They were playing at a pub called This Charming Man, but it was entry by ticket only – and the tickets had all been issued or sold already. There was a grand total of three tickets available on eBay, one pair and a single – and the current bid for the single was already £103, which was more than ten times the face value. Bradley put a watch on both items, and had a bit of a think about what he could realistically afford, or whether he was just going to do this no matter what. Perhaps it was the kind of situation where only a stupid grand gesture would do.

He sighed, and shut down the laptop. It was late, so he changed into a fresh pair of boxers and a t–shirt, and got into the bed he’d lately shared with an intriguing beautiful entirely unexpected man. It was some while before he fell asleep, because Bradley was too busy trying to figure out how his whole life could have been turned around so comprehensively.

♦  


## Colin

  


> All the perfect songs, one after another, the soundtrack of his life performed with a harrowing passionate commitment. Caught amidst the perfect audience, all the hardcore fans, experiencing the perfect band. Every soul there on the same journey that night, they were all in this together, there were no differences for this last little while, it was all ‘us’ and no ‘them’, and despite the high emotion there wasn’t a single nasty incident, not even a heckle. This last blessed chance to feel that someone understood. That someone knew him… There were tears in his eyes for most of it, tears running down his cheeks, and no one thought he was weird. And then eventually he looked up, and found that there was one member of the audience who was not involved in the band, who didn’t understand the songs. One person who was there for Colin Morgan alone. The perfect beauty of Bradley James, intriguingly flawed on the outside and astonishingly unblemished on the inside. They stared at each other for long moments, Colin completely undone by the music and Bradley deliberately way outside his comfort zone. And then Bradley started easing his way towards Colin, and the crowd let him through because they were all friends that night – and finally Bradley was there, and they were in each other’s arms, their hands were welcoming each other, and their mouths… And the rest of the gig was long lingering loving kisses of one kind or another. Perfect music, perfect beauty, perfect love.

♦  


## Bradley

  
No one left once the gig was done, because the band had said they were going to come out and mingle afterwards – not that they said _mingle_ – and anyway Bradley got the impression that no one was even halfway ready for the evening to end yet. Isolated in the midst of the crowd, he and Colin were in each other’s arms, foreheads together, slow–dancing to some fast emo punk blasting over the sound system. It seemed a miracle and it also seemed inevitable, that they should manage to connect like this. It was wonderful. Yes, Bradley felt full of wonder.

Eventually he lifted a hand from Colin’s waist, and ran a fingertip down the man’s breastbone, feeling not only Colin’s warmth and his heartbeat but also the rough texture of his black t–shirt and the smoothness of the lettering on it. The shirt announced, _I slept with someone in Midnight and all I got was this stupid song written about me_. ‘Is that true?’ Bradley asked.

‘Nah…’ After a beat Colin added, ‘He didn’t write me a song.’

Bradley looked at him for a moment, saw the wicked kick to Colin’s delicious mouth, and snorted with laughter. They shared the humour for a while, perfectly attuned, then Bradley turned solemn. But that was all right, because nothing was out of place at that time, if it were true. ‘Give me this one night?’ he asked quietly. ‘Spend the night with me, that’s all I ask. I want to talk. I want to fuck. But all I really want is for you to be with me until morning.’

Colin nodded, and said, ‘I will.’

‘Yeah?’

‘I promise.’

And Bradley kissed him again.

♦

He had meant to talk first, he had meant to explain his agenda so there’d be no misunderstandings later about who wanted what from whom. But as soon as they were safe and alone in Bradley’s room, they were in each other’s arms again, and stumbling towards the bed, falling into it, kissing and holding and moving not frantically but passionately and with great certainty, as if there wasn’t a doubt in the world about this. Which there wasn’t.

They took their time, but they were both intent on their current goal. And at last, at last they were naked and looking into each other utterly honest, watching each other, and Bradley was on his back with Colin moving over him, moving within him, and Bradley’s body wasn’t his any more but Colin’s, the pleasure and the pain of it was treasure indivisible, and he had never felt more himself more _truly himself_ than in those moments.

♦

They headed down to the diner afterwards, holding hands the whole way. Holding hands across the table while Colin pondered the menu.

Wendy arrived, and said in her most bored tones while scribbling on her pad, ‘Full English, pot o’ joe, long glass o’ milk.’ Then she turned to Colin, and raised a surprisingly soft brow. ‘And for you, love?’

Bradley snorted with laughter to discover that even Wendy wasn’t immune to the right charms. Colin turned an endearing smile upon her, and replied, ‘Cheese omelette, please, and a fresh orange juice.’

‘Sure thing, love.’ And Bradley could have sworn that Wendy winked at him before she strode off.

But then Colin looked across at Bradley, and that smile turned mellow and rich and profoundly happy, and Bradley forgot all care all caution for a moment. ‘I could love you, you know.’

A still moment passed between them. Colin sobered a little, but he was listening.

Bradley grasped his hand a little tighter, and then let it go. ‘I could _really_ love you – like, an _epic_ love. But I’m taking this enormous risk, telling you that. Not for my sake, but for yours. Because I’m guessing your first instinct hearing that is to leave it as far behind as you can, as quickly as you can.’

Another moment passed. Eventually Colin nodded once in acknowledgement. It was true. But his promise held and he was still there, he was still listening.

‘The thing is, you’re a brilliant actor. Mr Novak thinks so, too. He’s been great about this, he made them put a hold on your withdrawal. Because we all want you to come back to school. You _belong_ there, Colin. If any one of us belongs there, it’s you. And I’m sorry as hell I stuffed that up for you.’

‘Are you?’ Colin asked, his voice small and husky.

Bradley sighed and tilted his head in a quibbling kind of way. ‘Yeah, well – yes and no. It’s complicated, isn’t it? I’m glad for my sake that we’ve been together. It’s been fucking _fantastic_ , you and me. And if I got to have everything my way, then I think I’d like it if we tried to be together for a while. For as long as we could make it work.’ He admitted, ‘I think I’d like that a _lot_.’

Colin reached to hold his hand again, in gratitude and reassurance.

‘But I also think,’ Bradley continued, just forcing himself to grind it out now. ‘I _also_ think it’s more important that you come back to school. You love acting, I know you do. I think it’s a real vocation for you, yeah? Not just a career. And you’re so fucking good at it. Don’t throw that away.’

There were tears welling in Colin’s eyes, but they didn’t fall.

‘So…’ Bradley said, trying to get to the conclusion now before he lost his nerve. ‘So, I’ll do whatever it takes for you to come back. If you need for me to leave you alone, keep my distance, then that’s what I’ll do. We’ll reset everything to the day before that party, we’ll pretend I never took that stupid fucking dare – though you _have_ to know I just used it as an excuse. We’ll let everything settle down again. Because I think… I think this is probably the most important decision either of us has ever had to face. And this is where we both grow up a bit, and we try like hell to get things _right_.’

Silence. Bradley hardly dared raise his gaze from the table between them. Colin’s hand was grasping his painfully.

Eventually Bradley managed to mutter, ‘So, what d’you think?’

And Colin brokenly replied, ‘I think that’s the most amazing thing anyone’s ever done for me. _By far._ ’ The tears were rolling down his cheeks now, but Colin didn’t shy away from Bradley’s gaze. ‘That’s heroic,’ he said. ‘That’s epic.’

‘Shall we try that, then?’ he offered.

‘Yeah. Yeah. We should try. Thank you, Bradley. _Thank you._ ’

‘Good. That’s good.’ They were each grasping both of the other’s hands on the table between them, each leaning into the other. ‘Fuck. Are you hungry?’

‘No.’

‘Let’s go, then.’

‘Yeah.’

They stood up, shaky, and Bradley fumbled for his wallet and threw some money down on the table, he didn’t even care how much. He looked for Wendy, and nodded an apology at her – and she nodded back, apparently not minding. There was no sign of the food they’d ordered, so maybe she’d even figured out what was going on.

Then they were out in the street, walking along but with their arms around each other’s waist, clinging clumsily. ‘Look,’ said Bradley. ‘D’you wanna go back to your flat? I mean, just you, not me. Joe’s kept your room, he won’t mind you waking him up. He’ll be wanting to know you’re all right.’

‘No,’ gasped Colin. ‘No. I promised you the whole night.’

‘Well, I… I was really only trying to make sure you wouldn’t run away once I started talking. I wanted to be sure you’d hear me out.’

‘Tonight,’ said Colin, turning into his embrace. ‘For tonight I’m yours.’

They clutched each other there, and hugged, a safe little bundle of warmth in the cold night. And Bradley said, ‘I’m yours. God, _I’m yours…_ ’

♦  


## Colin

  


> It was all too much for a while, too intense even for Colin, so they just kicked off their shoes and lay there fully dressed but snuggled up together under Bradley’s duvet. After a while Bradley started talking about school things – regular daily stuff, the classes they shared and those they didn’t, the people they both knew, not even mentioning the Shakespeare speeches or anything else demanding at all – and Colin thought that was a bit weird at first, but by the end of it he was chuckling at the silly bits, and doing his share of the chatting. Feeling engaged with it all again, like he was actually back where he was meant to be. Which was true, it was so very true. And eventually they started making out, just tentatively at first, but soon it got serious, beautifully serious. He found his last packet of lube, and settled over Bradley, slowly devastatingly moving against him, their cocks and their balls pressing and rubbing together. Then he lifted one of Bradley’s legs up to hook around Colin’s waist, reached under his thigh to slide a finger inside him. Two fingers. Thrusting within him in the same steady deliberate measure with which he moved against the man. Bradley’s breath was coming harsh now from parted lips, and his eyes were molten blue. He fell apart under Colin’s ruthless gaze, and he came, unknowingly making the most delicious mewling sounds, and Colin whispered his name like a prayer – ‘Bradley James’ – and came, too.

 

♦

> In the morning once he was dressed, Colin kissed the man one last time. ‘Thank you,’ he said, knowing he must be physically betraying his own raw vulnerability just as Bradley was. But Bradley was also looking brave as he lay there alone in his bed, and Colin had never felt more grateful. ‘No one’s ever loved me enough to let me go before.’
> 
> Bradley nodded, though he looked like his world was ending. ‘Thank you, Colin,’ he managed. He grasped Colin’s fingers, and pressed a kiss to them. ‘Goodbye.’
> 
> ‘Goodbye, Bradley. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever known.’ And Colin stood up, and then he walked out the door and headed home.  
> 

♦  


## Bradley

  
It actually felt good in a bittersweet kind of way. Bradley hung out with his footy–playing mates down the sunny end of the courtyard, and he watched as Colin rejoined his emo friends down the shadowed end. Colin was welcomed back, of course, and seemed to be happily reconnecting with them. After a while, Joe’s gaze sought out Bradley’s, and Joe sent him a solemn silent _thank you_ , which Bradley acknowledged with a nod. Then Santiago came and sat beside him, his shoulder jostling warm and friendly against Bradley’s. They sat quietly, while the other jocks started kicking a ball around, until Santiago said in his sexy accent, ‘That’s a fine thing you did, Bradley.’

He shrugged a bit, though he was also pleased and humbled. ‘It was the right thing to do. The only thing, really.’

‘It was noble.’

His breath caught in his throat, and he confessed, ‘I’m gonna miss him. Santiago – I really – I really thought – Santiago, it was the real thing.’

‘I know,’ his friend said. ‘That’s what makes it noble.’

And Bradley groaned a little in grief, and he sagged against Santiago’s shoulder for a while, reflecting on how everything had changed around so far that now he was the one hanging out watching Colin, who seemed pretty much oblivious. But eventually the ball came their way, and Santiago headed it up high, and it came down at Bradley’s feet – so then he was up and dribbling it across the laughable defence, and he and Santiago teamed up against the others and beat them three–nil before they had to get to class, and really life was rather good.

♦

Of course the nights were the hardest bit, because he’d lie there alone, and he’d remember Colin being there with him, and despite the bed only being a single his mind kept playing _The Bed’s Too Big Without You_ on endless repeat. He kept reliving not just the incredible sex but their very first kiss, remembering how intense it was – and that was before they’d even gotten acquainted. Did that mean something? That they were destined for each other somehow, that they had chemistry? Or was Colin just the best damned kisser – the most amazing lover – Bradley had ever had the privilege of knowing…? Were they soul–mates or was it just clever mechanics?

Whatever it was, he missed it. He missed it like the darkness missed the light.

♦

Mr Novak’s class, and Bradley’s turn to do his speech. He got up, and paused for a moment near Colin until he had his attention. ‘You doing Henry V?’ Bradley asked a bit tersely. The first words they’d spoken since _goodbye_.

Colin looked surprised, then a beat behind that energised. He sat up in his seat. ‘Sure. You gonna…?’

Bradley just nodded, and headed for the front of the classroom. He’d rehearsed and rehearsed, following Colin’s advice that Bradley should imagine himself as Colin doing the speech – but it hadn’t clicked for him until he’d suddenly had a better idea still. He’d imagined himself as Mercutio, and Colin as Romeo. And the words had unfurled quite naturally from there.

So now he took a breath, looked his Romeo in the eye, and exclaimed, ‘ _O, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you!_ ’ And he was off, the lines tripping from his tongue with all of Mercutio’s wit and passion, his energy and doom. Yes, the words had become his own, and physically there was a move he made with his hips which was pure Mercutio. Which he wouldn’t have been able to even imagine before Colin had fucked him. ‘ _She is the fairies’ midwife, and she comes in shape no bigger than an agate–stone on the forefinger of an alderman, drawn with a team of little atomies athwart men’s noses as they lie asleep_ …’

Colin sat there, his smile already impressed but then turning to utter delight, and at the end he whooped and led the hearty applause. ‘Well,’ said Mr Novak once everyone had calmed down again. ‘Mr James. Full of surprises, yes. Excellent work.’

‘Thank you, Mr Novak.’

Of course then everyone turned curious looks to Colin. ‘Mr Morgan?’ their teacher prompted. ‘Are you prepared?’

‘Yes, sir.’ And Colin got up, and stood there before them all – and suddenly he transformed, suddenly he was embodying the authority and courage and charisma of a young warrior–king without striking a pose or doing anything obvious at all. He was astonishing. And then he began, addressing Bradley at first, just as Bradley had launched his speech off from Colin. ‘ _What’s he that wishes so? My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin… If we are mark’d to die, we are enow to do our country loss_ …’

When he was done, there were raucous cheers and whistles as well as applause, for the whole class had been roused to battle. ‘Excellent, Mr Morgan,’ said Mr Novak. ‘Truly excellent.’

‘I’d die for him!’ said Santiago, sounding surprised.

Bradley grinned. ‘I’d be right there beside you.’

♦  


## Bradley/Colin

  
Another week passed, and there was another party, another bad gay John Hughes movie with the jocks remaining aloof from the emo punks. As soon as Bradley glimpsed Colin across the room, he turned away, intending to leave, but Santiago simply didn’t let him. Santiago hooked his arm around Bradley’s waist, and held him there close and warm until it was too late to slip away unnoticed.

So instead Bradley tucked himself in behind the other footy players, and gently watched the man, watched his love, his Romeo – Bradley now taking his turn to create an element of quiet stillness in the midst of the chaotic party. And Colin frowned a little in his direction, and turned away.

> Colin turned away, but Joe was right there, not letting him take a step, and he said, ‘Go on. It’s time. You’re ready.’ And it didn’t matter how much Colin glared, Joe remained obdurate – and actually he was right, god damn him, so eventually Colin handed his beer to Joe, and he turned back to stare intently at Bradley. Started walking over there, with his friends chuckling or applauding or calling encouragement. Walking directly towards Bradley.

Bradley’s friends parted, shifted away, and he looked up to find Colin walking towards him, and he felt a flash of fear. But he stood his ground. And if he needed courage he received it from a reassuring brush of Santiago’s hand across his shoulder. But then the rest of the world vanished, and it was just the two of them. Bradley James and Colin Morgan.

> Colin Morgan, who simply walked right up to Bradley, cupped that beautiful face in both hands, and leaned in and pressed his mouth against the other man’s… They held it for a heartbeat. Peace amidst chaos. Then Bradley’s mouth was moving under his, Bradley’s hands were clutching at his waist. They kissed. And all Colin knew was that it was the most amazing kiss of his entire life. And that was what he wanted now. He was ready. He was ready to stay.

Eventually Colin pulled away a little, Colin ended it – not letting go of Bradley, but breaking the kiss – and he considered Bradley for a long moment with that familiar enigmatic blue gaze. ‘You were very brave,’ Colin said in his thick Irish accent. ‘Now it’s my turn to try. Being brave, I mean. But you’ll have to be patient with me, cos I’m not heroic like you.’

‘I’m not heroic,’ Bradley protested.

‘Yeah, you are. Anyway, I’ve finally found a place. A place I want to stay.’

‘Where’s that, then?’

And Colin placed one hand with flat palm and fingers over Bradley’s heart. ‘Right here.’

‘God…’ prayed Bradley in hushed tones. ‘I love you, Colin Morgan.’

> ‘And I love you, Bradley James…’ He grinned. ‘Man, this is gonna be fucking epic.’

♦


End file.
